September 28, 2025
Finding leaves fallen from the cherry trees.


Up at 8, the routine for getting ready for the party is to clean the house, get everything organized and ready, put the table clothes on the table.  I did 2 pyrex pans and knew I could do very little more.  I swept the bathroom and kitchen and began to deal with garbage and dishes.

Patrick came over with no more energy than I had.  I semi cleaned the porch table, he got the fire started in the weber, I counted 11 napkins.  Everyone started to arrive including the wonderful Eliza.  I love the sound of my name screamed from inside an arriving car.   So much joy.


Everyone took over.  Denise and Marcie led the way, Patrick snuck out and we all had a wonderful time.  So nice to be with them all.  






Gary came and mowed the lawn yesterday.  The whole group was ohhing and awwing about it and what a splendid friend, and a good job, and gorgeous yard.   I do love it.  Eliza had everyone go in the back and play soccer one at a time.   














Our oh so beautiful niece and her silly Uncle Geoff who got that name when she was Eliza's age.. Sarah and Ember are cousins, but they're my kids.  They're all my kids.   

Ethan and Billie are 2nd cousins, Billie is the eldest great grandchild, Ethan is the youngest.  There are many between the two.  It was really nice to just be with a handful of them so I could pay attention to each one for a bit.  When we are all together there is no way that can happen.




Alright, so Marcie marries Geoff and this is her first time meeting so much of his extended family.  We are a lot, but I think everyone loved each other.   So sweet.  

Two of my bestest friends were there, as well.   It was just a lovely afternoon.   Thank you my loves.  Thank you for doing all the work, too.  I am so appreciative and warm towards the whole gang.  I hope the next time isn't almost 3 years away.   





There is a tenderness in the men in my family that seems to exist in this 4th generation, too.   Ethan is already solid in his world.  
photo by Karen

Marcie asked me to read the poems I read at Garlic and Arts yesterday. I read a couple of them and Eliza stood by me and watched the whole time.  Then I asked her to tell people a couple poems that I knew she had written.  She recited two.  She is so curious and so attentive.   I love them all.  




















Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Image
  January 3, 2025 The Complexity (what I refer to as the texture) of Life This is a photo of Michael Whiton, eldest child of Jean O. Whiton.  If you knew our mother, you know whose eyes he inherited.  Picture was taken by Linda Boardman.        I did not take pictures today, nor was my brain very able.  So tonight you get a poem I wrote 25 years ago that is more spirited than I could write tonight. I Believe in Color   I believe in red the changing forever-ness of red.  A pure rich red: cotton tee shirt red, berries on the bushes in the dead of  New England winters, cherries in June next to a slab of ripe brie. Magenta, a little redder than wine, blood as it begins to dry, the curtains I always wanted, floor length heavy velvet. Orange red on the skins of a tangelo; blood oranges in a light blue porcelain bowl on a small table near stark white walls. Dusty rose of an old flannel duvet, the height of fashion in 1980. I believe i...
Read more
Image
January  4, 2025 Michael E. Whiton  June 30, 1944 - January 4, 2025     I always talk about patterns, it is my researcher's brain.  This morning I texted with my niece, Grace, and asked her what her 12 year old was really into. She told me math.  He plays the flute in his school band.  I had an epiphany when the 2 things got put together.  To grow up with music as a constant all through your childhood you are exposed to patterns.  You become aware of what can follow what.  My 3 year old great niece makes up little songs, repetitive musical patterns.  Her father repeats them or adds to them.  She already knows how to put notes together.  That's math.  That's what Liam does.        So what does all that have to do with Michael's leaving us on this plain today.  Well, one pattern is that we all seem to be good with babies.   When Mike was 21, Jason was born.  He was good to babies....
Read more
Image
  January 2, 2025 Time is both too soon and too late.   Just keeps slipping.     I believe it was 1996 or 7 when I flew out to Bainbridge Island to see my brother, Mike.  He was very ill and my Mom was worried and wanted me to go assess the situation, which I did, probably in not such a diplomatic way.  He really was ill.  His liver was failing and he wasn't getting put on the transplant list, yet.  I've never quite understand the whys and the wherefores of all that.  But for the next 4 or so years he maintained, so sick, sometimes optimistic, sometimes beaten, but he made it to a liver transplant in August 2000 in Worchester.       24 years ago, holy shit.  EJ's entire life, a third of mine; and again he kept living, kept listening to music and trying to be kind and never regaining any reliable health.   His story is fascinating, and I'll tell it sometime, but not tonight.  Tonight I just want to ...
Read more